Letting the light in
by europe
Summary: Sean needs some help. Christian Angst. Missing scene from my imaginary season three.


Sean squinted at the sun-bleached beach as he waited for his guest, idly wondering if the fact that he couldn't be bothered to care about the damage it was doing to his skin was a symptom of aging or if he had never cared in the first place. He should have sunglasses and wear sun cream, he knew – he'd seen the damage, but sunglasses never seemed to last more than a few weeks before being broken, sat on or lost and UV protecting moisturiser hadn't been on his mind that morning. Deciding that wrinkles were the last of his worries at the moment, he closed his eyes and tilted his head upwards, feeling the comforting weight of the midday sun on his face.

"More water, Sir?" He shook his head at the Spanish waiter who had brought him rudely out of his trance a few minutes later. A quick glance around confirmed she still wasn't here. He took a deep breath, resisting the urge to start tapping his car keys on the warm metal tabletop. He didn't want to look impatient when she arrived. If she arrived.

"Good afternoon, Dr McNamara" came a cold but familiar voice from behind him. Sean turned around and put his hands above his eyes to shield them from the sun while he looked up to greet her.

"Hi…Hi, Dr Santiago" he said falteringly, standing up to greet her. "I wasn't sure…you know, I thought you might not come."

She circled the table and sat down at the other side with poise and elegance that made Sean feel like a gawky teenager. " I wasn't sure I should, but let's just say I always was a nosey parker, and you calling me out of the blue after a year was just a little too much curiosity to resist".

"Right" said Sean uncomfortably, looking around for the waiter who had been around seconds ago, suddenly wanting to put off the explanation for why he had called for as long as possible. Mildly relieved he was still there, he beckoned the man over and ordered more drinks, conscious of the dry mouth that had just materialized.

"So Sean, I don't suppose you called to ask about my health?" asked Grace as she sipped at her water with a raised eyebrow and directness that told him he should disregard the niceties.

"No, not exactly. Well, not really at all actually." Shit. "Not that I don't care about your health" he amended as soon as he realised how it sounded. "I mean, yes, there was something that I wanted to talk about with you, something I wanted your advice on."

"Mmm…and that would be?"

"Christian."

There was a moments silence before a short burst of bright laughter rang out, reminding Sean of when they had been friends. He smiled in response to her mirth, although laughing was about the very last thing he felt like at the moment.

Her amusement was cut short as she belatedly sensed his sombre frame of mind.

"I'm sorry, " she said apologetically. "It's just that I don't think I'm the best one to talk to about Christian." She sighed loudly and waved her objections to the subject away.

"What's he done now?" she said resigned, but still amused. "Although I'm not sure I want to hear it."

Sean clenched his stomach muscles as the tightness in his belly that had been a nagging irritation suddenly rose to a crescendo, warming at him to stop, stop it right now while he could. Go home and deal with it like he always had, like they always had.

Ignoring the discomfort, he spoke carefully. "He needs help. Proper help, as in psychologist help."

"You don't say," said Grace unenthusiastically.

They stared at each other over the table until Sean looked away and back at the sea, wondering how it would feel to just float away. Fuck it, Christian he justified to himself. You left me no choice, none at all.

"I'm sorry Sean, but I can't help him."

The words jolted Sean back into reality. He hadn't really considered that possibility. Shocked and unprepared for her words, he leant over towards her. "But you have to," he said, trying to quell the sudden panic that had arisen at her words. "There's no-one else we know. No-one else that he knows, or that knows him. Please, Grace…Dr Santiago, can't you try?"

Grace was silent a moment and Sean felt hope creeping back. "No, Sean, I can't see Christian. It would be pointless and destructive. For both him and me. I can recommend some people though, good people."

"Why not you?" Sean almost begged, knowing her telling him of anyone else was less than pointless.

"Because I'm female, I slept with him and he hates me." She replied simply and with conviction. He couldn't argue with the logic.

Grace sighed. "Look Sean, I'm guessing that for you to be here there's something seriously wrong with him." She smiled, "Not that he was ever a candidate for mental health or anything, but if you're concerned enough to be sneaking around here without him – and I am guessing that he doesn't know you're here," Sean averted his eyes in silent acknowledgement and embarrassment. "And my next guess is that he'd be more than a little pissed to find you here talking to me about him."

There was no point in denying it.

"And unless you guys have moved into personality transplants," she continued dismissively, "he's going to run for the hills as soon as I or any other psychologist turn up in his vicinity."

That was true.

"You can't push people into therapy, Sean" she continued more in a more conciliatory tone. "It just doesn't work that way." She reached over and squeezed his hand. "And even if he did agree to therapy, I couldn't do it, given our past relationship it would be unprofessional."

Sean sat back in his chair and pulled his hand away. "Grace, he's going to destroy us both if he carries on. We're not getting new patients; we're losing old ones. Three regulars have left in the last month. The ones that are left are only there because he hasn't spoken to them. We haven't had a nurse last longer than three weeks before he's laid into them." He shrugged, "Liz is the only who'll stick around and that's only because she's heard it all before and she, for some unknown reason since he doesn't deserve it at all, actually cares about him. I can't keep going like this Grace, I've got a family to pay for, a life to live."

Grace pushed her unfinished drink away and picked up the handbag beside her. All trace of sympathy suddenly disappeared. "I'm sorry you've got problems, Sean. Really I am. I'm sorry that all you've worked for is being destroyed. My best advice is get yourself a lawyer, look at your contract and see what you can salvage out of the wreck that is McNamara and Troy."

Sean flinched at the callousness of her words.

Grace sighed. "In my office I have a young woman who is terrified of stepping outside after he partner was shot and murdered beside her two years ago" she explained more gently, "I have a man who's son is dying of cancer but is so scared of losing him he can't even hold his hand as his child cries for him, and I have a young woman who last both her children in a car accident last year. She's tried to commit suicide three times because she really doesn't know what to live for."

She took a step away.

"I see real people with real problems, not people who can't keep their dick in their pants and their thoughts to themselves. If you're worried about your business go and see a business advisor or an attorney. They get paid more."

"Wait," said Sean ineffectually as she walked briskly away. Throwing some money on the table for the drinks he jogged after her.

"You heard me, Sean." She said, not turning around as his footsteps announced his presence.

"WAIT!" he burst out, grabbing her arm and yanking her around to face him. "I don't give a shit!" He shouted unexpectedly, his frustration and fear breaking away from its uncertain control. "I don't give a shit about your patients or their problems! I don't give a shit about whether you like Christian or hate his guts and I don't give a shit about how many people he's screwed his fucked up life. " He let go of her arm and stepped back, instantly ashamed of the violence in his manner. Stepping back he turned away from her and watched the sun twinkle off the sea in an almost unnatural beauty. When he spoke again the control was back but had been replaced by fear. "In the last few years I've lost my wife, my kids and probably my business, but I am not going to sit by and lose him too." He closed his eyes briefly to recover himself. When he spoke again it was barely more than a whisper. "I can't do that, Grace. I'm sorry, I really can't, because losing him would be like losing myself."

He had nothing else to say and nowhere else to go. He stared at her and felt the moments slip away and with it the hope of rescue he had been hanging on to. Rollerbladers and runners ran by and children yelled on the beach. Sean recognised a vague astonishment that he could feel so numb in the midst of such life.

"Is you here about helping Christian or the business, Sean? I think you need to ask yourself that question, because the two aren't necessarily going to go together."

He wondered how a question would have seemed so complicated a few months ago now had such a simple answer.

"It's about Christian."

Grace regarded him with carefully, as if she doubted his sincerity.

Finally she nodded, "Sit down," she said suddenly, beckoning to a wooden bench in the shade by the side of the walkway. She sat down and pulled a mobile out of her bag. "Hi Jill, it's me. I'm going to be a bit late back, new patient. Can you call Miss Davies and reschedule, tell her it's an emergency and send my apologies. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Sean sat down gratefully beside her, not sure how long his reprieve would last. He watched as she put the phone back and pulled out a thin file filled with papers. She opened it to the top sheet and handed him a pen.

"Fill it in." She said matter of factly. " I won't treat Christian, but I can treat you. As of now you're a patient. Anything you tell me comes under client confidentiality, giving you and me legal protection". Sean stared at the paper in front of him. "But if I'm going to help you, you're going to have to be honest, Sean. You're not here because Christian's upsetting the patients or because he chases the staff away with his fine form of vitriolic abuse. He's been doing that for years and it's never bothered you. If you were worried about your business you'd be consulting someone else. Tell me why you're here or I leave."

Sean nodded and silently filled in the form. "Okay." He said, handing it back to her. "But it's not pretty."

"Not pretty is my business. It's yours too." She responded wryly.

He smiled and nodded in acknowledgement. "Have you heard of a guy they called 'The Carver'?"

Grace nodded. "Uh huh, average slash 'em type psycho, decided to up to murder after mutilation wasn't good enough anymore. It was in the news you were doing the pro bono, picking up the pieces thing when he was leaving them alive. Like you said, not pretty."

"No."

Sean stopped, not sure he could go further. Christ, this betrayal felt worse than Matt finding out about Megan. And there wasn't even the up side of having great sex and falling in love. He folded his arms and wished again for sunglasses; as if they could hide the guilt he knew was written all over his face.

"Like you said we …I did some pro bono work on his victims. It felt good and we got free publicity. He didn't like it so he started threatening us…me to be specific. He left our business cards by the victims and when I kept on doing it he called me and broke into my house one night. Cut my face and considered it a warning."

Grace looked momentarily shocked and regarded his face quizzically.

"You can't see the scar, we fixed it up pretty good." He explained. "Anyway, I was so pissed me off at the threat and the…" He searched for the right word. "The degradation that I ignored him and kept fixing them up when no-one else would touch the patients."

Grace nodded in encouragement. "That was courageous."

Sean nodded. "It felt like it at the time. Despite the fact that I was sleeping with a gun under my pillow." He scowled a little as the familiar feelings of self disgust rose again. "I think in a way I was hoping in a way that he'd try it again so I could be a hero. You know, do something special, and impress people with my masculine stance or something like that."

"And what happened?"

Sean sighed, the guilt feeling as it was pushing on his chest. "I didn't tell Christian I was doing it. You know how he would've reacted. He would've refused to do the pro bono work, freaked out at me. He wouldn't want to take the chance, so I just…just didn't tell him".

" I can see his point of view"

"So I did the hero thing, got a kick out of goading a psycho. Julia was impressed." He sighed. "Anyway, three months ago he broke into Christian's apartment and attacked him."

He heard Grace's sharp intake of breath. "Oh, God. I'm so sorry Sean, I really am."

"Yep, me too'" he said. Reassured by the genuine concern he heard in her voice.

There was a moment's pause. "Is he okay?"

Sean nodded. "Physically, yes. On his face, it was mainly superficial. We did the surgery immediately so the scarring is minimal and what's left will be gone in a few more weeks. He drugged him so he was paralysed, carved up his face, slashed him across his chest and upper arms, stabbed him in the right shoulder and thigh and left him the phone for when the drugs wore off."

"So his face is going to be okay?"

Sean nodded, "He'll still be a pretty boy."

"Not sure if that's good or bad."

Sean looked at her sharply.

"Sorry." She said contritely

"Depends on your point of view," he said with a sad smile.

"So what's the problem?"

Sean felt the stone in his stomach make a sudden reappearance, grabbing his insides and squeezing. He smiled tiredly at her, "I though talking about it was meant to make it easier."

"You've got to talk about it first," she said with a gentleness that made him feel like a child. "Then it gets better."

"Christian is my friend."

"And you're worried about him."

He sighed, " He trusts me," he said defeated. " If he finds out I talked to you, he'll never forgive me. If I don't talk to you, he's not going to be around to hate me anyway."

"So talk to me, Sean. It seems like the better option"

"About five in the morning I got a call. He couldn't talk but I've got caller ID, so I raced round there. The door was open so I let myself in. He had trailed blood through the bedroom and into the shower. When I found him he had lost consciousness from the blood loss and was still lying on the floor in the shower."

"Uh huh."

"So what did you do?" Grace prompted kindly, as Sean failed to continue.

He stared at her silently, suddenly angry. "What kind of victims crawl to the shower when they're barely conscious and stay there until someone makes them get out?"

The slow understanding spread across her face and with it a look of horror and pity that Sean knew would devastate Christian if he were ever to witness it. Feeling like a traitor, he stood up.

"I'm sorry, Grace. I shouldn't have come. It was wrong."

"Sean, no. Please sit down." She said hurriedly. "I'm sorry, I wasn't ready for that. I didn't realise…Let me help you, you need to talk about it."

Reluctantly he sat back down, searching her face for any further signs of pity or revulsion. He didn't see them but he remained silent. Together they watched the skaters and sea for a few moments, both of them fortifying themselves for what was to come.

It was Grace who spoke finally. "You said that was three months ago. Why are you here now?"

"He's stopped the you know… the sleeping around thing."

Grace nodded. "Understandable, even predictable given the circumstances. Many rape victims feel uncomfortable with physical intimacy after their attack."

"Sex was never about intimacy for him, Grace. It wasn't even about fun or pleasure. It was about shame and humiliation. He uses it to hurt. Either himself or other people, doesn't seem to matter which."

"I didn't think you knew."

Sean snorted. "You don't need a degree in psychology to tell he's screwed up. Even Kimber, with her lack of brains knew there was something seriously wrong with him."

"So if he's not sleeping around, surely that's a good thing in a way. Give him a chance to make a real relationship. One that's not based on sex."

He shook his head. "Christian isn't exactly known for doing the sensible thing. Not when it comes to his personal life, anyway."

"So what is he doing?"

"This morning he fired the cleaner. After verbally ripping her to shreds and leaving her running from the office in tears of course." He sighed. "If he only applied one tenth of the brain power to his own life that he does into tearing other peoples apart I wouldn't be sitting here now."

"He does have special skill in that regard. I remember it well," Grace agreed.

"Sorry about that." Said Sean quietly, remembering Christian in blazing form ruthlessly annihilating Grace before unceremoniously evicting her from their office. "I should have stopped him."

"Yes, but you didn't and I'm over it now."

He nodded. There wasn't much he could say.

"He fired her because she complained to me that he was leaving bloody dressings in the garbage in his office."

Grace looked confused.

"It's a biohazard." Sean explained. "All dressings have to be sealed and wrapped and placed in the proper containers. He can't just go dumping used dressings in the restroom bin in his office. He knows that. He shouldn't be changing dressings in his office at all. We have an exam room for that!"

"So did you speak to him?"

"No."

Grace looked surprised. "Why not?"

"I meant to, after she complained to me a few weeks ago that it had happened a few times. She was scared of trying to talk about it with him, but she knows she's not supposed to handle unbagged medical waste, and I just forgot about it and with everything that's happening it just didn't seem important."

"And this morning you still didn't speak to him?"

"There didn't seem any point."

Grace raised a questioning eyebrow.

Sean sighed. "Because I realised that Christian isn't seeing any patients in his office. The contract cleaners that come during the night emptied the bins last night. Christian was in there alone all morning, I checked. Our own cleaner came about midday and immediately told me. I asked Christian to dispose of waste properly and he… well let's just say she was gone ten minutes later."

"I don't get it, " said Grace confused.

"Nor did I," he said agreeably. "Until I did, an hour later. Christian's reaction was overboard, even for him."

"So?"

"So I think in place of screwing around half of Florida, Christian has come up with a whole new way of hurting himself. But this way involves scalpels, blood and bandages."

Sean watched as confusion changed to understanding. "That's a bit of a jump, Sean," she said cautiously.

Sean shrugged. "It's something he does. He's always done it…pulling at his hair when he loses his temper, or hitting walls if he can't handle something. I can't explain how I know, but I'm sure enough that I'm here."

"Shit."

"Yeah, shit."

This time the silence between them lasted even longer. Sean felt the tension that had held him tightly all day dissipate leaving nothing but a sense of emptiness. Idly he wondered if the feeling was anything like how women felt as they gave birth to a child, leaving nothing but an empty, overstretched womb.

He closed his eyes, knowing he was going to miss it. The friendship, the peculiar intimacy that felt like it was just the two of them hiding from the world under a blanket in the dark. But most of all the naïve trust that Christian had always so faithfully placed in him, even when he didn't deserve it, and that was often. Not for the first time he wondered how much the security blanket that had surrounded them both had been responsible for ending his marriage, like an all boys club of just two members that no one else could break into. Until now, he conceded. When Julia had needed to come in he had held firm, he hadn't even invited her in when he could have. When Christian needed something more than Sean could provide he had gone right ahead and let the light in. He didn't even want to think of what that meant.

"Sean?"

"Mmm?" He answered keeping his eyes closed, not quite to accept what he had done. He had broken the trust and told one of Christian's secrets to someone else. A cardinal sin, worthy of everlasting hatred.

"Sean, you need to know some things before you go back. Open your eyes and listen."

Reluctantly he opened his eyes and sat up, wishing they were still back at the restaurant so he could order a drink. A stiff one. He looked wearily at Grace. "Tell me what to do."

"Okay, but you have to listen and try to understand. I'm serious."

"And you think I'm not?"

Grace gave him an apologetic look. "Okay. Number one, you need to know that he's not suicidal. It's a coping method. An ineffectual and damaging one, but a coping mechanism all the same. In a sense, he's only doing the same as he's been doing for years. Damaging and degrading himself with sex isn't an option at the moment so he's achieving the same thing another way."

"Slicing yourself open with a scalpel is not the same as sticking your dick where it shouldn't be!" Sean contradicted harshly.

"It is for him," said Grace with conviction. "You have to trust me on this."

Sean glanced sideways at her, wary of her calm response.

"Number Two" She went on. "You can't and you shouldn't stop him from doing it any more than you can stop him screwing everything that moves."

"Of course I'm going to stop him from doing it." He yelled frustrated, "He's playing with knives for God's sake. I'm supposed to just let him walk out and say 'sure Christian, have a good time sticking yourself with a scalpel tonight. Oh, and don't make a mess on the carpet'."

Grace ignored the outburst. "How are you going to stop him?"

I can stay with him and make sure the only people he's cutting are on the operating table."

"He's an adult, Sean. You can't stay with him twenty-four hours a day. He'll get rid of you, lose his only friend just when he needs him the most and find a kitchen knife."

"Not if I can help it."

"Which you can't, so get over it." Grace replied harshly. "Number three, you have to confront him and let him know that you know what he's doing and that it's not going to affect how you feel for him."

"And then tell him to go right ahead and keep doing it?"

"No. You don't have to support it, you just need to let him know he can talk to you about it and you'll be there when he needs you."

Sean shook his head. "I can't do that."

Grace looked surprised by the blank refusal. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I can't do it, we don't have that kind of friendship. I'm not strong enough. We're not strong enough. He can't talk about it with me." Sean sighed. " I'm sorry, I can't explain, but I can't tell him I know."

"Scared of what he'll say?"

"Oh yeah, " Sean nodded with a small smile. "I've never been the target of a full frontal Christian assault before, but I'm sure he's got the goods stored up."

"I don't envy you."

"It's not just that," Sean said unexpectedly. "It's…it's against the rules."

Grace frowned. "What rules?"

"The being friends with Christian rules." Sean laughed depreciatingly. "The rules that say never mention the fact that we both know he's screwed up…" He turned around and faced her. "Never try and get closer than he wants to be, or talk about something he doesn't want to talk about. If you do, you're on the off list and Christian's off list is not just off, it's a mission to destroy. I'm trying to save a friendship here, not trying to start a world war in the office." Sean shook his head. "I really don't think I could handle that."

"But you thought I could?"

He nodded. "Something like that."

Grace gathered the sheet Sean had filled in and started putting it in her bag. "Do you know what we had before we had therapists?"

Sean looked questioningly at her as she stood up to leave.

"We had friends, Sean. You tell me you lost your wife, your family and quite possibly your business and now you're losing your best friend. Maybe you should be asking yourself if you fought hard enough for them and maybe just how hard you're prepared to fight for this one."

Sean stood up but didn't attempt to follow her. "I'll fight as hard as I have to" he said steadily, with new assurance.

"Then I'm not the one you should be talking to," she said softly. "He needs help, that's true, but even more he needs a friend." She reached her hand to him and shook it firmly. "Good luck, you're going to need it."

Sean watched her walk away into the harsh Miami sun and felt alone again. Alone like David facing Goliath but with no supporters and not entirely sure who was Goliath and who was David.

He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialled the first number on his speed dial.

"Christian, it's me. We need to talk. I'm coming over to your place this evening."


End file.
